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THE FLATIRON AND 
THE RED CLOAK 

OLD TIMES AT X-ROADS 


BY 

MRS. ABBY MORTON DIAZ 


Author of “ The William Henry Letters,” “ Lucy Maria,” 
“ Domestic Problems,” “ Bybury to Beacon Street,” 
“Only a Flock of Women” 


¥ 


NEW YORK: 

THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. 

PUBLISHERS 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two Copies Received 

AUG. 30 1901 

Copyright entry 

3 /. >9 ot 

CLASS XXc. N*. 

/tT?7/ 

COPY B. 



Copyright, 1901 
By T. Y. CROWELL & CO. 


TYPOGRAPHY BY C. J. PETERS & SON. 
BOSTON, U. S. A. 



TO 

MY GRAND-NIECE MARGARET 





CONTENTS. 


I. PAGE 

Janet, Lucetta, and Emily 8 

II. 

“ No, I Thank You ! ” 16 

III. 

“ Private from Toosey ” 26 

IV. 

All before the Horn Blows 33 

V. 

The Secret Surprises 38 

VI. 

“Old John ” and “ Young John” 46 

VII. 

An Upsetting and What Came of It 60 

VIII. 

T’other-side 67 

6 


6 


CONTENTS. 


IX. PAGE 

Whispers 62 

X. 

The Unicorn’s Message 71 

XI. 

In Granny’s Hut 76 

XII. 

Afterward 82 


The Flatiron and the 
Red Cloak. 


Oh, the times of the long time ago 
Were not like the times we have now ! 

And new children may like to hear how 
The old-fashioned children played plays, 

And some of their doings and ways ; 

Of their smiles and their tears, their hopes 
and their fears, 

In the good old grandmothery days, 

The days of the long-time ago. 

Yes, the plays and ways were different; but 
if you should happen to be in a certain, village 
on the New England coast, you would see some 
of the same old houses, and just at the outskirts 
the same little brook slipping through the grass, 
and the stepping-stones for stepping across, and 
a place sunk in the ground on “ T’other-side ” 
where once stood an old hut, the home of “ Little 
Lyddy ” and her Granny. The two boards laid 
across for her dog-cart to go over on have been 
gone this many a day. 


7 


8 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


I. 


JANET, LUCETTA, AND EMILY. 

One summer morning, very early, before even 
the sun was up, Lucetta Holmes — “ nine years 
and fast going on ten,” as her mother told when 
asked — stepped briskly along the roadside, bas- 
ket in hand, and at last stood still, facing a 
small cottage, seemingly watching for some one 
to come out. 

As no one came, she walked softly up to a 
low window opening into a bedroom, and whis- 
pered loud as she could, “Janet ! Janet Jackson ! 
Going ? ” 

The curtain was quickly pulled aside from 
the opening, and in its place came a round pink- 
cheeked face — Janet’s. 

“ Yes, ma said I might if I would come back 
time enough to set the table. Don’t make any 
noise ; I’ll be out soon as I’ve tied on my panta- 
lettes. My basket’s under the bed ; here it goes 
out the window ! And — here — come — 1 ! ” 

“ Now we’ll skip! ” said Lucetta. And they 
skipped lightly up the walk and through the 
gateway. 

A lovely June morning. The sun was send- 


JANET , LUC ETTA, AND EMILY. 


9 


ing his rosy light first upon the hilltops, then 
lower and lower, till at last the whole landscape 
was aglow. The birds sang in the apple orchards ; 
the flowers were abloom, clover, buttercups, 
daisies ; the mowers were mowing the grass 
fields — you could hear the “ chic ! chic ! 
chic ! ” as they sharpened their scythes. Bare- 
foot boys in broad-brimmed, damaged straw 
hats were driving their cows to pasture — here 
and there a bossy-calf bobbing alongside its 
ma ; the insects were buzzing and humming, 
and the new day was started right merrily on 
its way. 

And hand in hand right merrily the two girls 
tripped along, skipped along, tiptoeing lightly 
over the dewy grass as it came in their path, 
sunbonnets now and then blown back by the 
fresh morning breeze, gaily swinging their bas- 
kets — quite large baskets, much too roomy 
for berries, even had it been berry-time. 

On and on they went their ways. And such 
ways 1 Around the far backsides of houses — 
down in hollows where things had been thrown 
away, gathering up, as they went their cu- 
rious ways, all kinds of things found in all 
kinds of places, covering them all carefully with 
handfuls of grass and flowers ; and what was to 
be done with their “ findings ” not a child who 
reads this story could guess — nor even a grown- 
up person. 

On their way home they overtook Emily Al- 
den. She had been out in the fields to wash 


10 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


her faoe in June dew, said to be good for the 
skin. 

“Oh, Emily!” cried Janet. “We’ve been 
after ‘findin’s;’ and we’ve got ever so many 
things, and there are more places to hunt in ! ” 

“ Why, girls ! ” exclaimed Emily, seeing the 
shapes of things in Janet’s basket and a teapot 
nose out in plain sight. “ Are you two going 
to have a Mammy Doty ? ” 

“ Not really to have one,” said Lucetta. 
“We are going to make one for Janet’s sister 
Toosey — make it way down by the stone wall 
in the comer of their orchard — make it pri- 
vate, you know, and so we’ve covered ’em 
over.” 

“And keep it private for a Secret Surprise till 
her birthday,” said Janet. “ She’ll be six then.” 

“ And her ma is going to begin on that very 
day,” said Lucetta, “ to call Toosey by her right 
name — Jerusha — if she can, because she was 
named so for her great-grandmother — I mean 
for Toosey’s ma’s great-grandmother who was 
good to Toosey’s ma when she was alive — I 
mean when Toosey’s ma’s great-grandmother 
was alive.” 

“ And what have you found ? ” asked Emily, 
peeping in. 

“ Let’s sit down on the white rock,” said 
Janet. “Now you hide your eyes, Emily, and 
don’t peek, and we’ll spread the things out.” 

So Emily put both hands up to her face, but 
talked through between them, saying that white 


JANET , LUCETTA, AND EMILY. 11 


rock was ’bout the size of the one they used to 
call “ salt pork,” over at Bridgton, and all the 
children used to stop going home from school, 
and salt it with sand. “ Just as the little ones 
are doing now, here,” said Janet, as she and Lu- 
cetta placed the “ findin’s ” on the rather hubbly 
white surface. 

“ Mayn’t I just peek ? ” asked Emily at last. 

“You may look!” answered both the others. 
“ Unhide your eyes ! ” 

“ Why, girls I ” exclaimed Emily, as she un- 
hided her eyes and let them behold the strange 
array. “ Where did you find this ? Almost a 
whole glass tumbler ! and gilt around the edge 
of it!” 

“ And here’s a prettier one still I ” said 
Janet. 

“ A good deal prettier,” said Lucetta. “ See ! 
— Little gilt dots all over it! We found that 
way down behind Mary Jane’s house, in that 
old scraggly place. Mary Jane’s mother felt 
dreadfully when ’twas hit and two little pieces 
dropped out its side. She cried some. She 
wouldn’t set it back on the shelf. Her uncle 
brought two of ’em home from sea. She had 
one and her cousin had one. She said she 
wanted it out of her sight forever after — I 
mean forever after ’twas broke.” 

“ That’s quite a good coffee-pot — nothing 
but its nose melted part off,” said Emily, taking 
up things one by one. “ And this little iron 
skillet looks ’bout as good as a good one — ’twill 


12 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


do for Toosey to make b’lieve warm her porridge 
in ; one of its little teenty legs is broke off, but 
she can shove a stone underneath and play ’tis 
a coal o’ fire. And if here isn’t a pint tin-pail 
cover that will fit it almost well enough I And 
this china cracked teapot will do first>rate. 
You haven’t found many plates and cups yet; 
but that’s a good blue-edged platter, the part 
that’s left.” 

“ And see this ! ” said Janet, taking some- 
thing out from under her apron. “ Do look at 
this ! ” 

“ Oh ! oh ! oh ! oh ! ” cried Emily. “ What a 
big piece of looking-glass ! I never had such 
a big piece of looking-glass in a single one of 
my Mammy Doty’s ! ” And Emily went on to 
show how a strip of something could be put 
round the edge, for a frame, so that it would 
seem like a true looking-glass. 

“ And what do you say to this ? ” asked 
Lucetta, suddenly bringing something around 
from behind her back. 

“ Well, now ! ” cried Emily. “ A copper tea- 
kettle, sure’s I live and breathe ! And we can 
put a stick across for a make-b’lieve crane, and 
— and beg some hooks to hook on to the crane. 
I’ll tease my ma for one, and you can both of 
you tease your ma’s.” 

“ And maybe we’ll find a little joby-kettle 
somewhere, and we’ll hang that and the tea- 
kettle on the hooks,” said Janet. 

“ And put some sticks of wood under, for a 


JANET , LUCETTA, AND EMILY. 13 


make-b’lieve fire,” said Emily. “ You’ll let me 
be in the secret, won’t you ? ” 

“ Of course. It’ll be more fun, all three 
together,” said Lucetta. 

“ I almost want to make it for ourselves,” 
said Janet, looking at the “ findings ” fondly. 

“ And I,” said Lucetta. 

“ Too bad we’ve grown up so old ! ” laughed 
Emily. “I’m ten. Only think! Ten years 
old ! I don’t care ; ma says I may play rag- 
babies long’s I want to, if ’tis till twenty.” 

“ And when Toosey has her Mammy Doty 
parties, I’ll fetch all mine,” said Lucetta. “ I 
mean all my rag-babies.” 

“ And if ’tis a real truly Grand Party,” said 
Emily, “ with real frosted cake, and wineglasses 
to have our sweetened water in — you’ve got 
two here, and maybe we’ll find some more — 
I’ll let my great London Doll come. Truly, 
now, if I am so old, I’d like to play Mammy 
Doty ! Big girls don’t have half so much fun as 
the little ones — hardly a thing to play with ! ” 
Janet told Emily of a cherry-tree that had 
grown up by the stone-wall comer down in 
their orchard, in just the right place to make a 
good shade for the Mammy Doty. “ And we 
can have a big front-yard,” said she, “ by putr 
ting stones around. And we can make a big 
front-room in the same way. And some day 
Toosey can have a Truly Party, and invite all 
her little girls, and we big ones can be their 
aunts and their mothers come to see to them.” 


14 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


“Yes! And dress up!” cried Emily. “Like 
grown-ups ! And act out grown-ups ! I 
wish ” — 

But before her wish was told, Emily was 
knocked nearly over by a frowsly, towsly, light- 
colored, partly-gray small dog that came bound- 
ing over the ground, wagging his tail about 
forty wags to a minute, and then went sniffing 
and frisking among the things still left upon 
the rock. He knocked over the coffee-pot and 
tea-kettle, jumped plump against Janet, and 
probably would have smashed some of the pret- 
tiest things had not Lucetta already gathered 
them into her apron, to pack away in the 
basket. 

“ Oh, you scamp of a Caper!” cried out Janet. 
But scamp Caper was speeding afar by the way 
ne came. 

“ Gone back to find Lyddy,” said Emily. 
“ He always runs back when he gets ahead.” 

“There she goes with her bundle,” said 
Lucetta, speaking softly. 

“ Should we have to invite her to any of 
Toosey’s parties ? ” whispered Janet. 

“ My ma,” said Lucetta in a very low tone of 
voice, “ says Lyddy is not a proper child for me 
to go with. But pa says she is as good as any- 
body’s child, if she does have to carry the 
clothes home for Granny, and does live over 
T’other-side. Folks say,” went on Lucetta, 
whispering, for Lyddy was passing quite near, 
“ that Granny goes to see the old squaws that 


JANET , LUCETTA , EMILY. 15 


live back in the woods, and lets ’em come in 
sometimes. I mean when they’re going by.” 

“ Do see Lyddy’s pantalettes ! ” whispered 
Emily. “ What are they made of ? One of 
’em’s coming off ! ” 

“ Well, mine plague me that same way,” said 
Janet. “ I have to keep tying ’em tighter all the 
time. But I must hurry home. Next time let’s 
go hunting along other places — as private as 
we can.” 

“ You mustn’t let Toosey see anything,” said 
Lucetta. 

“ Let’s hide everything in my cellar,” said 
Emily, throwing more grass and flowers over 
the basket. “ Private's the word.” 

“ Private's the word,” said Lucetta. 

“ Private's the word,” said Janet. 


16 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


II. 

« NO, I THANK YOU ! ” 

It is not often a Present is received with such 
reply — and by a young gentleman ! And it 
was a good Present. But there was cause ; 
and as to the reply, although not spoken in the 
English language it was well understood. 

The presentation of the Present took place 
in the small village we have been telling about, 
one night just after sunset. 

The village probably got its name — “X-Roads” 
— before many houses were built there. It had 
several lanes but only one street. This one 
street was the stage-road from Boston. It came 
a long way, and went directly through and a 
long way beyond. The road from Hilton came 
over the Hill, and crossed the stage-road on a 
slant so as to make an X. 

Hilton was nearly half a mile distant. It had 
two wharves, and a ship-yard, and the town- 
house, and the meeting-house, and two school- 
houses. Whenever any of the X-Roads people 
went to Hilton, they called it going Over the 
Hill, except on Sundays, and then they called it 
going to Meeting. 


“JVO, I THANK YOU!" 


17 


Lyddy, Granny’s child, was about two years 
old when she and Granny came to live at X- 
Roads. The town let them have an old hut 
standing on town’s land — over T’other-side ; 
and Granny herself did most of the fixing up, 
such as setting glass, and shingling over the 
bare spots. She earned their living by washing 
and other work — braided rugs, and did some 
spinning at home and around in houses. The 
most of her employers lived Over the Hill. 

T other-side was not far away. It was just 
across the brook, where the town’s land began. 
Next came pastures, and then woods where a 
few colored folks lived, some of them part 
Indian. They often went through X-Roads 
and Over the Hill with their baskets and brooms 
to sell ; all good honest people. 

Granny’s hut had but one room, with a corner 
boarded off for a bed ; and there was a big fire- 
place, its chimney all in sight, going up through 
the loft overhead. The hearth came out far 
into the room and was warm to the feet in 
winter time. 

The “ Present ” just spoken of was presented 
just after sunset of the day when Lucetta 
Holmes and Janet Jackson went to hunt for 
“ findings,” and sat upon the rock, and talked 
with Emily Alden in low voices about Lyddy 
as she passed along, while her dog, Caper, 
stopped to frisk among the Mammy Doty things. 

While Lyddy was a little child she had 
scarcely noticed that the other children did not 


18 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


make her their playmate. Now that she was 
nine she felt it. She had felt it that morning. 
On the sunset night we are speaking of she 
said to Granny, “ Granny, the girls don’t talk 
to me — they talk about me.” 

Granny made no answer, but began to bite 
her nails. They two and Caper were sitting 
together in the doorway. 

“ Granny, what are my pantalettes made of ? ” 
Lyddy asked. 

“ Made of good cloth that I wove myself, and 
colored with good otter-colored dye that I made 
myself. What do you ask that for ? ” 

“ ’Cause Emily Alden talked about ’em to 
the girls this morning.” 

Granny put up her other hand, and began 
biting all her nails tremendously ; and scarcely 
smiled when Lyddy told, with now and then a 
giggle, how Caper came running and tumbled 
their things about. 

The sunset was as fine as had been the sun- 
rise in the morning. Great pillowy clouds, 
purple, golden, lilac, silver-tinted, were massed 
in the west; and, indeed, the whole sky was 
one grand display of color. 

But Granny’s thoughts were not on the 
beautiful sky ; nor were Caper’s. Caper had 
been curled up on the broad flat doorstep-stone, 
close as he could get to Lyddy’s feet ; and now 
while his part of the story was being told he 
showed great interest, his eyes shining, his tail 
wagging as if it would wag itself off. He 


“ NO, I THANK YOU!" 


19 


sprang to his feet ; and now and then he would 
give a quick, snapping little bark, as if he were 
doing his deeds all over again. And then he 
would look fondly at Lyddy, and curl down 
again close by her feet. 

Caper was fond of Lyddy, and indeed he had 
good reason to be, for when he was only a poor 
lost little puppy-dog she befriended him. Yes, 
a poor, lost, hurt little doggie was Caper once. 
Nobody knew where he came from, but it was 
supposed he might have been lost from the 
stage as it passed through the woods. 

It was one day in the month of November 
that Lyddy found him. She was out picking 
box-berries — sometimes called checker-berries 
— for Granny to sell Over the Hill and while 
picking she heard a strange noise — a mournful 
kind of noise. She was scared. It made her 
think of wild creatures and “ Old Stragglers,” 
and she began to climb over a stone wall to 
run. In looking about her in fright, when on 
the wall, she saw something white and not very 
large, quite a way off among the bushes. It 
was trying to move. 

Lyddy thought at once that that was what 
had made the noise, and wasn’t afraid an}' more. 
She got down, and went softly to it on tiptoe, 
and found it to be a little puppy-dog, gray and 
white. It hurt him to move his leg, and at first 
she thought it was broken ; but it was only 
badly bruised — perhaps by a wheel or a 
horse’s hoof. He cried when she touched him ; 


20 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


hut after a while he let her roll him into the 
skirt of her gown, and in that way she carried 
him home. 

When there she placed him in a corner on a 
pile of Granny’s wool. Then she climbed up in 
a chair and reached the salve box on the mantle- 
piece, and very tenderly did she lay on the salve 
with her soft, little-girl fingers. Then she gave 
him some scraps left from dinner, and he made 
out to lick them from the floor. 

Lyddy took the whole charge of the little 
dog and his hurt leg, except that Granny 
named him. She said he must be named for 
a dog she had known, and the name must be 
“ Caper.” 

As Caper became well and able to race 
about, he could scarcely let Lyddy out of his 
sight. He cried every time she went to school, 
and whined in his naps, and always met her at 
the brook when she was coming home ; and 
when she was fairly in the house he would jump 
all over her. At night his bed was made up 
close by her side, and in the morning he was up 
top, all ready for a frolic. 

A nice dog Caper had grown to be, nimble, 
frisky, playful. He was white and gray, and 
had a wholly black tail. In size he was like 
Billy Winkle’s Pig in the story-book, “ Not 
very little and not very big.” 

As Lyddy ended her story about the Mammy 
Doty things, and his rogueries, Caper settled 
down and went to sleep. 


“NO, I THANK YOU!” 


21 


“ It is very pretty up there, Granny,” Lydia 
said, her face upturned to the sky. 

Granny’s thoughts were not upon the sky, 
however, but on something much duller — on 
the spelling-book. She had heard what Lyddy 
had said about the girls’ talk, and then had 
turned her thoughts upon Lyddy’s spelling- 
book. She always studied Lyddy’s daily spell- 
ing-lessons at night. Lyddy had first to pro- 
nounce all the words for her ; for she could not 
read very well, except in the Bible, where she 
knew the verses by heart. Even the common 
words in the spelling-book puzzled her, es- 
pecially c, i , o , u, s ; t , i, o, u, s; 8, c , i, o , u, 8. 
Also, d , i, e, r, in “ soldier,” when to her belief 
just a j would do the business. 

Yet she was resolved that Lyddy should 
know not only spelling, but as much as any 
girl, even to working muslin and lace. As to 
why she wished Lyddy to learn so many things, 
that cannot be told now, for it is another part 
of the story ; and besides, the Present spoken of 
is on its way to the gentleman — you have 
already been introduced to him; his name is 
Mr. Caper. 

Yes, the Present is about to arrive on four 
wheels, small ones, but real ones, and made to 
go. And made to come. 

“ What is that rattling so ? ” Granny wants 
to know. It is the Present. It comes rattling 
over the boards across the brook, then along the 
pathway through the bushes. Caper rouses, 


22 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


pricks up his ears, stands stock-still, listening. 
Granny and Lyddy rise from the doorstep. 

Now it is in sight. A roller-cart; just big 
enough for Caper to pull with a bundle in it — 
say a bundle of clean clothes to be taken home. 
It has been made by Mr. Calvin Alden, the father 
of Emily Alden, a carpenter ; and it is being 
brought by Emily’s eleven-years-old brother, 
Aleck, who intends to present it with a speech 
composed by Aunt Nancy, his mother’s sister, 
who lives in the family, and is always up to fun 
when there is any. 

Aleck comes up the path to the door, pauses 
on the door-stone, takes off his hat, looks Caper 
straight in the eyes, and speaks : 

“Mr. Caper; this fine cart with this fine 
rope harness is presented to you as a reward 
of merit, also that you may have more merit ; 
the merit — the merit, Mr. Caper, of drawing 
the bundles now lugged and tugged by your 
mistress Lyddy. 1 will now begin to instruct 
you.” . 

During this address Caper has kept turning 
his head this way and that, as dogs do when 
looked straight in the face. 

And now comes a lively scramble ; for Master 
Aleck, the chief part of the occasion ! As the 
harness is about to be applied, Caper slips from 
under with a bound. Aleck seizes him, and 
with Caper held between his knees, tries again, 
tries so hard that Caper squeals. There he 
goes ! Next, the same thing over again. 


“NO, I THANK YOU!" 


23 


“ Maybe you’d do it better inside,” says 
Granny. 

So Aleck takes the cart inside the hut, fol- 
lowed by Granny and Lyddy — Caper follow- 
ing Lyddy, yet cautiously. 

Now the door is closed and the harness is 
once more laid on, Lyddy holding Caper quiet. 
The harness is attached to the cart — and 
now come the “No, I thank you’s,” quick and 
sharp, and away goes Caper around the room ; 
the cart rattling behind, and the two together 
knocking over chairs, brooms, tongs and shovel, 
and a little round table with everything on 
board — cups, candlestick, spectacles, spelling- 
book, knitting- work; Lyddy, Aleck, and Granny 
too, darting this way and that, trying to catch 
him and lead him. 

He tangles the cart up in the spinning-wheel, 
and then in the folds of the long red broadcloth 
cloak that hangs from a wooden peg. Granny 
springs quick to save the cloak. 

But as he is now really harnessed in fast, 
Aleck darts and opens the door, and out goes 
Caper with a jump and many a twitch, Aleck 
and Lyddy holding on to the cart and the reins 
too, to keep him from galloping. 

Outside, Caper grows more quiet ; though his 
“ No, I thank yous ! ” are not entirely over for 
some time. But he finally comes and stands by 
Lyddy, cart, harness, and all. 

Quite a company have collected, chiefly of 
boys and girls, a few grown-ups standing apart, 


24 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


Aunt Nancy among them. Can you not make a 
picture — a mind-picture — of the whole scene ? 
First the hut, with Granny in the doorway; 
the cleared grass-spot, the trees and bushes cir- 
cling around the whole, Caper in harness, with 
some little boys stroking him. In this mind- 
picture, the women must wear on their heads 
either just a kerchief thrown over, or else the 
high calashes, made somewhat like the top of a 
buggy, in order to give room for the high-combs 
and caps and turbans then worn — all married 
women wore either caps or turbans. 

You must picture Granny as wearing a small 
turban made of some dark stuff, and with two 
curls, partly gray, on each side of her forehead, 
rolled up, and pinned flat with a pin. Picture 
her, too, in a petticoat and short-gown ; not a 
short gown, but a short-gown, reaching nearly 
to the knees, and tied around the waist with 
her apron-strings. Think of her as a small 
woman, not tall, a little bent, and having rather 
a thin face. 

And all the boys in your picture, big or little, 
must have round jackets and long trousers. 
Yes, long , for in those olden times knee-pants 
were unknown. 

In the back-ground, under a clump of lilacs, 
must stand three girls — Janet Jackson, Emily 
Alden, and Lucetta Holmes. They are whisper- 
ing together, not about Lyddy, but still about 
Toosey’s birthday. It is to come on Saturday, 
the next day but one ; and there must be a get- 


11 NO, I THANK YOU ! 


25 


ting-up early in the morning, long before she is 
awake. Everything has been kept private ex- 
cept from Aunt Nancy. She is thought to be 
as good as a girl. You must picture Aunt 
Nancy as as a slender woman, about thirty. 
For a bonnet she wears a calash of the kind just 
mentioned. Queer enough they would look 
now! They were stiffened and made to arch 
up by having rattans run in. The material was 
usually green silk. A narrow ruffle of the same 
adorned the front and a wide one made the frill 
behind. The calash usually had a ribbon bridle 
which, held by the hand, prevented it from 
falling back or blowing away. 


26 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


III. 

“ PRIVATE FROM TOOSEY.” 

“ Here’s the string, Emily ; you tie my pug, 
and I’ll tie yours. Tie it tight now ! ” 

It was early in the morning of little Toosey 
Jackson’s birthday. The Mammy Doty “find- 
ings” were to be carried out to the Jackson’s 
Orchard Corner before Toosey Jackson waked 
up. Afterwards, of course, she would have to 
be watched, and kept from going that way. And 
as the birthday came on Saturday, when school 
kept only in the forenoon, it was thought best, 
in order to guard against accidental findings- 
out, to wait till afternoon before putting the 
Mammy Doty together and presenting it. 

To make the day still more of a surprise for 
Toosey, it had been decided that all the “ little 
ones,” as her playmates were called, were to be 
invited to come and bring all their ragbabies ; 
and this had called for still more plannings and 
an extra early rising. 

Therefore Lucetta Holmes had stayed all 
night at Emily Alden’s, and Emily’s Aunt Nancy 
had agreed to call them, oh, very, very early — 
earlier than it ever was in the world, even be- 


“ PRIVATE FROM TOOSEY .” 


27 


fore putting on all her clothes; and she had 
had to hurry down to them with only a bed- 
spread over her shoulders. 

They tied each other’s pugs as tight as they 
could, and as high up as they could ; and if 
you wish to know what kind of pugs, think of 
the brush part of your paint-brush, tied tight, 
and then, if long enough, turned back and the 
end tied down flat. 

The two girls started out carrying each a 
basketful of the nicest of the “ findings.” The 
big things were left down cellar in a far corner, 
all well covered with hay. After school at 
noon Emily and Lucetta were to scamper down 
with them to the Jackson orchard on the sly. 

The sun had not yet peeped above the hori- 
zon ; and about the only person they met was 
Janet’s and Toosey’s grown-up sister, Phoebe 
Jackson. She had been weaving cotton cloth 
in the loom in the big kitchen, and had come 
to spread it out to whiten on the dewy grass. 

Phoebe told the girls that Janet was about 
ready. “ I left her tugging away at her panta- 
lettes,” said Phoebe, laughing. “ She never will 
learn how to tie a good strong double-bow-knot, 
and they keep coming down. If you peek in 
the window, make signs ; for talking loud would 
wake up Toosey. Toosey sleeps in the trundle- 
bed now. There isn’t room to draw it far out; 
but you can see her head well enough, with its 
little ruffled nightcap on, cunning as can be ! 
Don’t speak. Make signs. 


28 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


And signs they made of all kinds ; and Janet, 
one foot in a chair, struggling with her single- 
bow-knots and pantalettes, made all kind of signs 
back, and all kinds of motions with fingers and 
lips, meaning, Hush! I'm coming! Sh! Don't 
wake her up ! Now ! Cro round to cellar-door ! 

Janet brought up two baskets of things from 
her cellar, the “ ornaments ” on top, well covered 
with hay ; and when all had been carried down 
to the Mammy Doty Corner, the girls threw 
more hay upon the whole. 

Then they talked over the plans for the day 
a little more. In the afternoon, at the proper 
time, the “ little ones ” must bring their rag- 
babies down to the Orchard Corner, and have 
it wholly unknown to Toosey. After the “ sur- 
prise,” they were to play “ Mammy Doty ” 
with Toosey ; and the ragbabies big enough to 
“ come to the table,” were to be seated around 
the table, in the big front-room of the Mammy 
Doty house, and have make-b’lieve sweetened 
water and make-b’lieve other things passed 
round to them. The smaller ragbabies would 
be put to bed in the Mammy Doty bedroom, 
taking turns, of course, on account of the small 
accommodations. 

They decided that they would see the “ little 
ones,” on their way to school, and privately tell 
them to bring their ragbabies to the Orchard 
Corner at two o’clock, and then stay somewhere 
around in the pastures near by, listening for 
two toots of the horn. 


“PRIVATE FROM TOOSEY .” 


29 


Then the girls went to their homes, and ate 
breakfast. 

All the little ones ” were seen on their way 
to school and privately invited. The Secret 
Surprise was explained to them until they fully 
understood it ; and they were told to try hard to 
keep it private from Toosey, and from every- 
body, lest somebody should tell somebody, and 
Toosey get word of it. And try hard they did. 
For all the forenoon they kept nudging each 
other, and making believe clap hands, and cov- 
ering their lips with their fingers, and pointing 
privately at Toosey, and holding up two fingers 
to mean two o’clock. At recess they were kept 
under guard by Janet, Emily, and Lucetta. On 
the way home they were full of antics ; and when 
they got to the white rock by the roadside, 
Emily got them to “ salt fat pork ” a while in 
order to keep Toosey there ; and the “ fat pork ” 
was salted as never before. 

Meanwhile Janet ran home to make sure all 
was safe in the Orchard Corner. 

While the little ones were “ salting fat pork ” 
Aunt Nancy came along, and said to Toosey, 
“ Toosey Jackson, I have got a lot of glass 
beads, blue, red, green, yellow, all colors ; and if 
you will bring your ragbabies over right away 
after dinner, every one of them, you can string 
them each a string of beads.” 

So Toosey went over to Mrs. Alden’s ; and by 
quarter of two some of the “ little ones,” hidden 
thereabout, were watching the house on every 


30 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


side, and also listening for the horn to sound 
once. At this first toot two of them were to 
hurry in, and tell Toosey that somebody wished 
to see her over in her orchard. Then the other 
little ones were to come scattering down to the 
Orchard Corner, one at a time. 

And now, ever since dinner, Janet and Emily 
and Lucetta had been more than busy, putting 
the Mammy Doty things each in its proper 
place. The stone-wall corner made two sides of 
the Mammy Doty house ; and for a third side 
a rope was put from the wall to a tree, and a 
cloth hung over it. The front was entirely 
open. 

The “ house ” had three rooms, separated by 
rows of stones. The middle one was the kit- 
chen. On its right was the bedroom, on its left 
the sink-room, where the girls swiftly arranged 
the cooking utensils, such as fry-pans, tea- 
kettles, skillets, coffee-pots ; also, brooms, mops, 
a toasting-iron — all in excellent order. 

They made the bedroom bed of sheep’s wool, 
and spread over it a not very much worn-out 
cradle quilt. Their fine, large piece of looking- 
glass, bound round with yellow by Lucetta’s 
nimble fingers, was hung up there on a stick 
stuck in between the stones of the wall. The 
chairs and the stand were made of blocks from 
Mr. Alden’s carpenter’s shop. The chairs had 
some kind of pretty-colored stuff laid over them. 
Very small mats and rugs for the floor had 
been cut in different shapes, out of handsome 


“ PRIVATE FROM TOOSEY .” 


31 


pieces — one was red velvet — quite unusual. 
The ornaments were pretty shells, some picked 
up along the shore Over the Hill; but the 
prettiest ones had been brought by vessels from 
across the sea. To help “ pretty the room,” as 
the girls said, they had placed here and there a 
few bright bird-feathers and bits of gay ribbon ; 
also sprigs of bears’ grass, an evergreen vine 
that ran wild over the pastures. 

The kitchen table was the cover of a butter- 
firkin, with a white cloth spread over it, and 
supported by four tall, slender sticks, pounded 
into the ground so as to be almost even, and — 
as Aunt Nancy said privately — so tall and so 
slim they made the table look as if it were run- 
ning off on its own legs with a white handkerchief 
over its shoulders ! Aunt Nancy always saw all 
the fun there was in anything. The kitchen 
chairs were of various kinds — boxes, milking- 
stools, and a few aged truly chairs, sometime 
out of use ; and there was one disabled cricket, 
propped up, where one leg was gone, by a good 
block of about the right length — for the girls 
could turn almost everything to advantage. 
They made the fireplace of bricks; and, as had 
been planned at the beginning, a stick was some- 
how laid across for a crane, and the small cop- 
per tea-kettle hung there by hooks begged from 
the three ma’s, and a plenty of kindling under- 
neath showed why the tea-kettle was there. 

The buttery was at one corner of the kitchen. 
For shelves, the girls had arranged there three 


32 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK, 


round sticks of wood different in size, the small- 
est at the top. The glassware — some of it gilt, 
brought from Holland — was on the top shelf. 
Next below was the chinaware. The bottom 
shelf was given up to the common ware. The 
knives, forks and spoons were a most inter- 
esting collection, as were also the candlesticks ; 
and there were a few implements not in present 
use — such as cards for carding the wool into 
rolls before spinning it, and molds for running 
the tallow candles. 

The three girls worked hurriedly, not only 
because there was so much to do, but for an- 
other reason ; namely, a change in the afternoon 
plan — a change that added another surprise to 
the Birthday Party ; and though brought about 
by just a Dream, it makes one thing more that 
must be told before Toosey is tooted for. 


ALL BEFORE THE HORN BLOWS. 33 


IV. 

ALL BEFORE THE HORN BLOWS. 

This about the Dream, and what came of it, 
will show its importance more and more as the 
story goes on. A story has to take its own 
course ; no one can help that. 

As readers will remember, the three girls had 
spoken at the white rock of another orchard- 
party for Toosey, sometime, which they would 
attend as “ mothers ” of the “ little ones,” and 
be dressed in grown-up clothes — a truly party 
with truly seats, and a truly table with truly 
nice things to eat. 

They had spoken of it also afterwards, and 
by reading further you will learn how it was 
that this Mother Party came on the same after- 
noon with the Secret Surprise, and was itself a 
secret surprise, planned in a hurry. 

It has just been told that Janet Jackson left 
Toosey “salting fat pork,” and ran home to 
make sure all was safe in the Orchard Corner, 
and that all three, Janet, Lucetta, and Emily, 
went there and put the Mammy Doty in form 
and order. 

It must now be told that in going home 


34 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


from school, they saw Emily’s Aunt Nancy 
standing at her chamber window, and beckon- 
ing to them to come up. 

When entering, they gave, as they always 
did, an admiring glance at Aunt Nancy’s bed. 
They thought the tall, carved post-bedstead so 
fine, with its white canopy overhead, edged 
around with wide, netted fringe ! The girls 
had always admired this canopied bed, with its 
white counterpane that Aunt Nancy herself 
had worked in her grapes-and-grape-leaves pat- 
tern ; the full feather-bed, made up so beauti- 
fully square and even, as was the way with 
beds in feather-bed days. 

Aunt Nancy commonly wore a Vandyke cape 
over her shoulders ; her back hair, as was then 
the fashion, being tied pretty near the top of 
her head, and brought around a high-top shell 
comb, and her front hair done in two curls and 
held by a side-comb at each side. A nice face 
Aunt Nancy had, at times sober, but easy to 
laugh ; with beautiful, dark eyes and level eye- 
brows ; her hair dark, and her mouth like a pic- 
ture, with its winning smile. 

Aunt Nancy was a good friend to everybody; 
but oh, how she did love to make herself a com- 
panion for the children. Emily’s set declared 
her “as good as a girl.” For though gentle- 
mannered she was as lively as any of them 
when the lively times came. 

As the three girls came in that noon, at her 
beckoning, this dear young-hearted aunt shut 


ALL BEFORE THE HORN BLOWS. 35 


the door softly and motioned them to be seated. 
Then she smiled at them as she stood by the 
mantlepiece of the low fireplace — a fascinating 
old seaport shelf, with its shells of different 
sizes, shapes, and colors ; pieces of pink coral 
and white ; its pair of pictures of saints, and 
curious little gilt-and-china images, all brought 
from foreign parts by a lover who, years before, 
had sailed far away over the seas — to return 
no more. 

The girls sat there, each partway on her stiff- 
backed chair — Janet taking the opportunity to 
tighten up her pantalettes — wondering what 
Aunt Nancy wanted them for. And finally 
Aunt Nancy said : “ Girls, I want to tell you 
that last night I had a dream. It woke me up 
in the middle of the night. I dreamed that we 
four were over at the new Mammy Doty house, 
with Toosey and the little ones and their rag- 
babies, and that when the make-believe sweetened 
water was being passed round in the Mammy 
Doty glassware, I gave each of the little ones a 
Fried Boy, with cloves for eyes — just as I make 
them, you know. All the ragbabies were there ; 
our Polly’s Great Gomorrah and Toosey’s corn- 
cob twins, and Lucy Babcock’s clothespin 
family, and several wishbone infants in long 
clothes. I dreamed that I sat down there 
against the stone wall, and that while you were 
passing the things round, some of the girls of 
your set, Mary Jane, and Serena, and Susan 
Frances, and ’Lizabeth Ann, and Elviry, and 


36 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


Hannah Babcock, came racing into the orchard 
in grown-up clothes, rigged on in all kinds of 
one-sided and ridiculous ways — especially the 
caps and bonnets and calashes — and shouting 
all together, ‘ Oh, ho ! oh, ho ! We’ve found you 
out, Toosey Jackson ! We've come to your 
party! ’ 

“ It startled me so, that in my dream I 
jumped, and a stone fell down on my head. 
The jump waked me, and I found that the stone 
was in reality a book that I read in after going 
to bed, and laid way up high on the pillow, by 
the head-board. But the dream seemed very real. 

“ And now, girls,” continued Aunt Nancy, 
“what do you say? You have been planning 
a Mother Party for Toosey sometime — why not 
do it now, and give Toosey a big day ? Suppose 
you run out and speak to Serena and others of 
the nearest ones, and let them skip round and 
tell the others. They can each one of them 
bring a few dress-up things, and there are a 
good many things in the house and Phoebe 
Jackson and Adeline Holmes can come and 
help fix, and bring their mothers’ curious old 
bonnets ; and after you three have started the 
little ones playing games you can leave them, 
and run right across lots in here, and by that 
time the others will be on hand, and Phoebe and 
I and Adeline can slip the things on the whole 
of you, and start you trooping into the orchard 
where the Secret Surprise will be going on — 
and surprise the Secret Surprisers ! ” 


ALL BEFORE THE HORN BLOWS. 37 


The girls sprang up and made for the door. 
“ Tell the nearest ones,” repeated Aunt Nancy, 
“ and tell them to skip quick and keep it private, 
and that the things must be brought here as 
soon as the little ones have got to the Mammy 
Doty Corner ; and I’ll go right down now into 
the kitchen and fry the ‘ boys,’ and make that 
much come true, anyway, while you are having 
your dinners and putting the Mammy Doty in 
shape. Tell the girls there must be a pretty 
lively stir ! ” 

And any person perching high up in a tree 
that stood high up a hill thereabouts and look- 
ing down upon the field-paths and lanes and 
the roadsides and “ cross-lot ” ways, and through 
roofs of “ housen,” as houses were often called 
in the olden time, would have seen a “ pretty 
lively stir ” as the different “ nearest ones ” got 
the word and passed it on, and all of them flew 
to closets and chests, and up into garrets, in 
order to help celebrate Toosey Jackson’s birth- 
day. 


38 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


V. 

THE SECRET SURPRISES. 

The Secret Surprise having now extended 
itself in various directions, we can think of it 
as going on, towards two o’clock that Saturday 
afternoon, in about this way. 

Toosey Jackson, soon to be “Toosey” no 
more, is now up in Aunt Nancy’s room, sit- 
ting in Polly Alden’s little rocking-chair, look- 
ing over two small picture-books that are to be 
hers, only she does not know it. The glass 
beads are strung, and strings of them adorn her 
own neck, also the necks of her ragbabies. 

Articles of grown-up clothing are shut up in 
Emily’s bedroom down below under guard of 
Phoebe Jackson; and Aunt Nancy’s closet holds 
a collection of the same. Serena, ’Lizabeth 
Ann, and others of Janet’s girls, each with a 
bundle tied up in a homespun cotton handker- 
chief of very large dimensions, are beginning 
their various roundabout ways to the same 
house. 

The “little ones,” Toosey’s mates, have 
handed their ragbabies over the stone wall to 
the three managers, and are now hiding in good 


THE SECRET SURPRISES. 


39 


places, anxiously awaiting the first sound of 
the horn. 

In the Orchard Corner, the managers, Lucetta, 
Janet, and Emily, are finishing up; namely, 
placing stones to make a large front room to 
the Mammy Doty house and also an exceed- 
ingly large front yard. As soon as all is ready 
Janet will toot the horn. At one toot the two 
“ little ones,” who are to tell Toosey that some 
one wishes to see her down in her orchard, are 
to start for Aunt Nancy’s. At the second call 
— two toots — all the other “ little ones ” are 
to start up from their hiding-places around 
Emily’s house, and follow a little way behind 
Toosey — but not too near. 

It takes a good many words to tell all these 
things, but that is because they are going on in 
so many places it is hard for the story to 
keep up. 

“ T-o-o-t ! ” First call ! 

Away go the two appointed “ little ones ” on 
a tight run to Aunt Nancy’s, into the house, 
and up-stairs. There, nearly out of breath, they 
manage to say, “ Toosey ! Somebody wants — 
to see you — down in your orchard ! By the 
Cherry Tree ! Quick ! ” 

Toosey starts and runs for the door. 

“ Here, little girls,” Aunt Nancy says, “ you 
take her ragbabies.” And away go the three, 
stumbling down-stairs with a great clatter. 

“ T-o-o-t ! T-o-o-t ! ” Second call. 

With a rush the other “ little ones ” spring 


40 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


from their hiding-places, and follow after, quite 
a way behind at first, but getting nearer and 
nearer as the orchard is reached. 

Janet and Emily and Lucetta stand in front 
of the Surprise, spreading out their gown-skirts 
so as to make a wide screen. 

As the “little ones” get near, Toosey Jackson 
hurrying along ahead, tho three girls that make 
the screen, speaking in concert, say, as has been 
arranged among themselves, “ How do you 
do, Jerushy Jackson? Jerushy Jackson, this 
Mammy Doty is presented to you for a Birth- 
day Present. It is your own — dear, good, 
little Jerushy Jackson 1 ” And they step aside. 

The child was entirely overcome. After a 
minute, in which she seemed to be taking in the 
palatial size of her playhouse, she ran and hid 
her face in her sister Janet’s gown-skirt, threw 
her arms around her, and burst out crying. 
The other “little ones,” half wondering at what 
was before them, half crying with Toosey, stood 
motionless. A silence fell upon everybody, 
upon the whole dear little scene. 

Suddenly Emily Alden thought of some- 
thing. “Oh, Toosey! ’’she cried — forgetting 
the “ Jerushy ” — “ do look at our Polly’s Great 
Gomorrah’s new pink bunnet and feather ! ” 

This “ bunnet ” was shaped somewhat like a 
hat, after the fashion of the day, and Aunt 
Nancy had made it for Polly’s Great Gomorrah 
to wear to the Surprise and she had stuck in 
the crown an immensely long rooster-feather. 


THE SECRET SURPRISES. 


41 


The little girl slowly raised her head when 
she was called ; and the moment she saw Polly 
Alden’s Great Gomorrah with the new pink 
bonnet over her frowsly hair and soiled coun- 
tenance, she giggled out — and then the party 
began. 

There was plenty for the “little ones” to do. 
The corncob twins were put to take their naps 
in the bedroom bed. Lucy Babcock’s clothes- 
pin children took theirs across the foot, and for 
the wishbone infants in long clothes a hasty 
crib was made of an upside-down cricket. 

Polly Alden’s Great Gomorrah was seated 
in the front-room, as company come a- visiting ; 
and a few of the nicest-looking ragbabies were 
placed around as if they were receiving the 
guest. Others, that looked more as if they 
had been used to doing housework, were taken 
to the kitchen and sink-room. 

Very soon an oilcloth tablecloth, bearing 
marks of long service where a good deal of 
baking and other work was going on, was 
spread near to Great Gomorrah on a conve- 
nient box ; and thereon were grandly set out 
the choicest glass and china that the buttery 
shelves afforded. When the corncob twins 
and the clothespin children waked up, they 
were seated around “ so as not to sit one- 
sided hardly any,” and when the make-b’lieve 
sweetened water and other things were passed 
round the housework girls were allowed to be 
present and have the same things passed to 


42 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


them. The two “ little ones ” that were to 
pass round the things were chosen by a “ count- 
ing-out” done by Jerushy herself, as they all 
stood in a row — thus : 

“ Intry, mintry, kutry, korn, 

Apple-seed and brier-thorn, 

Wire, briar, limber, lock, 

Five — mice — in a — flock. 

Sit and — sing — in the — spring ! 

O — u— t —Out!” 

At this point, Emily, Janet, and Lucetta 
Holmes, seeing that all was going on right, 
strolled carelessly away, but when out of sight 
broke into a smart run for Emily’s house. 

The others had arrived, and their heads and 
“ costumes ” were being attended to by Aunt 
Nancy and Phoebe Jackson and Adeline Holmes. 
’Lizabeth Ann, having the longest hair and 
most of it, had had it done up on top and 
brought round a high top-comb, her side-locks 
puffed at the temples with side-combs. She 
wore a green silk calash on her head. Serena 
had become a small old women with a cane. 
She was stuffed out a little at the back and 
wore a shoulder-cape and a muslin cap with 
plaited ruffle and dark ribbon made in a flat 
bow at the front. 

Others of the girls had puffs, and some had 
false curls fastened on with little side-combs. 
Big bonnets were the fashion then, and funny 
enough those rosy girls looked in them ! Some 
wore a “ short-gown and petticoat ; ” some wore 


THE SECRET SURPRISES. 


43 


long trailing gowns, with muslin capes “worked” 
in nice embroidery. Lucetta Holmes had on 
her mother’s afternoon-cap, of the kind called a 
“ Crazy Jane.” It had a flaring frill and a blue 
ribbon tied in a bow in front. 

As each girl was “done,” Aunt Nancy set 
her on the edge of the great high canopy-top 
bed, first spreading a sheet over it; and in 
their jubilations the girls fairly shook that high- 
post bedstead ! 

When all were ready they proceeded down 
into the Jackson orchard, one by one, holding 
up their skirts, dodging along behind trees and 
bushes, but managing to reach the Orchard Cor- 
ner at the same time ; and there they so startled 
the “ little ones,” who were busy carrying away 
the dishes and tending their “children,” that 
they stood stock-still with whatever they had in 
their hands, and just stared ! 

“ These are your mothers, children, come to 
see to you ! ” 

It was Phoebe Jackson who spoke. She and 
Aunt Emily and Adeline Holmes, and a few 
of the neighbors with their aprons thrown up 
over their heads, had come along down on the 
other side of the wall, and now stood looking 
over. They declared to each other that they 
had never in their lives beheld anything so 
funny ! 

The “ mothers ” at once stepped up to the 
little birthday girl, one at a time, and shook 
hands with her, each one saluting her the same : 


44 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 

“You have a fine day for your birthday, 
Jerushy Jackson! I wish you many happy 
returns ! ” 

And when too much of this made the child 
look as if she might burst out crying, the 
“ mothers ” began to dance up and down, hold- 
ing out their skirts and making bows and curt- 
sies in the most ridiculous manner, till the 
smiles, spreading over her little April face, 
chased the tears away. 

The “ mothers ” then instantly began to “ see 
to ” the “ little ones ” after the manner of 
mothers. They stroked their hair, smoothed 
down their skirts, fixed their pantalettes, and 
wiped their noses. Presently they divided into 
“ families,” and each family went away under 
a separate tree. There, out in the big sunny 
orchard, the “ mothers ” visited each other, 
taking the “ little ones ” as their children, 
sometimes leaving some at home with colds or 
measles. The conversation ran on their do- 
mestic affairs — their spinning, their butter- 
making, their candle-dipping, and how many 
teeth the baby had, and which ones were be- 
ginning to walk. 

But Toosey — little Jerushy — slipped away 
and went back to her big playhouse. She 
wanted to see it , and realize that it was hers. 
Down there alone, in the Orchard Corner, she 
walked around and looked at everything to her 
heart’s content — examining one by one all the 
sink-room utensils, and standing as long as she 


THE SECRET SURPRISES. 


45 


liked before the three shelves of pretty china 
and glassware, and tilting the tea-kettle on the 
crane, and pushing the kindlings in more snug 
and neat. In the bedroom she moved very 
tenderly the babies who were having their naps, 
smoothed out the pretty rugs and mats, held up 
one of the “ waked-up ” children to see its face 
in the looking-glass, and touched, one by one, 
softly, the pretty feathers, shells, and bits of 
ribbon. Then she gave a long, happy sigh. 

Oh, it was a most perfect, a most excellent 
Mammy Doty! Never had she seen a play- 
house half so fine ! 

Aunt Nancy had just come back with her 
“fried boys” for the Truly Supper. Phoebe 
Jackson was with her, with a basket of little 
frosted cakes. She smiled at sight of Toosey 
walking about all alone in her playhouse, her 
little hands clasped behind her back. She 
spoke low to Phoebe: “I could almost envy 
those three good girls their pleasure in making 
a little child so happy ! ” 


46 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


VI. 

“OLD JOHN” AND “YOUNG JOHN.” 

But now it was time for the games to come 
on. Janet and Emily called to Toosey, and 
there was a swift scamper across to a more level 
open spot by the roadside. 

If this story had not so much to tell it might 
wait for the writing down of the words and 
music of those old-time games in which, for fun, 
and to show how they went, the larger ones 
joined in with the “little ones” and sang, at 
the top of their voices, “ Pretty Fair Maid will 
you come up,” and, “ We are all a-marching to 
Quebec.” 

“ There comes the stage ! Hurry ! Make 
your curchies ! ” cried Phoebe Jackson. 

And in the midst of the rush along it came 
— the stage for Boston. 

A great event in X-Roads was this daily 
passing through and back of the Boston stage, 
with its four horses, its driver perched on high, 
and its gentleman and lady passengers looking 
out from its side-windows ! For even our com- 
monest carriages were unknown in those days. 
People had to go horseback or on foot. And 


“OLD JOHN ” AND “YOUNG JOHN." 


47 


you have no idea how polite the children were 
to travelers. They were admonished on this 
point from infancy up: “ Always make your 
manners to strangers passing by ! ” 

This meant, for a boy, making a bow ; for a 
girl, a curtesy (commonly called “ curchey ”). 
The stage passengers always were given these 
attentions, and usually returned them with a 
bow or a smile. 

And as the stage plowed through the sandy 
road that day, the passengers smiled a good 
deal at sight of that giggling, frolicking crowd 
in the orchard, rigged out in such funny fashion, 
standing in line and bobbing their very bobby 
“ curchies ” all out of time with each other ; 
and as long as they were in sight, hands and 
handkerchiefs waved back to the children. 

The next to pass along and get bobby curt- 
sies from Toosey Jackson’s party, was a large, 
elderly man on a tall, bony, white horse, with 
a woman sitting on a “ pillion ” — a sort of 
cushion — behind him, holding herself steady 
by a girdle around his waist. 

This man, John Holmes, a noted hunter, was 
on his Saturday trip down to X-Roads for his 
weekly supply of “ sweetnin’,’’ and had taken 
a neighbor as passenger. He was more com- 
monly known as Old John, that name having 
been given him years before when there was a 
Young John, his son, a fine young fellow, after- 
wards lost at sea. 

Nobody ever saw Old John without thinking 


48 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


of Young John. There wasn’t a little girl there 
under the apple-trees that didn’t think of Young 
John after Old John had ridden by. 

Even six-years-old Toosey, in fact all the 
children of X-Roads, knew of Young John, 
though he hadn’t been heard from for many 
years and was long ago given up for lost. 
In that small village there was little of outside 
news to talk about. Thus at the gatherings 
at the store and around the kitchen-fire of 
winter evenings, when the neighbors dropped 
in, often bringing a girl or boy, the talk, as it 
always did in the seaport towns of that day, 
would run upon adventures at sea, and lost 
sailors, and vessels taken by pirates ; and at last 
it would come round to Young John. What a 
fine, tall, strong fellow he was, and how hand- 
some, and how eager to get his schooling too, 
coming down, when a boy, all the way from The 
Meadows to the school Over the Hill ! How he 
would search the cabins of vessels that came to 
port for any books the sailors might have 
brought home! 

At first it was not thought strange that no 
word came from Young John. He seldom had 
sent any, and in those days letters were costly 
and were often sent by any chance conveyance. 
There were no regular mails across the sea, no 
steamers. 

When Janet and others of the girls played 
at “ making-up stories ” they would invent, 
from what they had heard, the most wonderful 


“ OLD JOHN ” AND “ YOUNG JOHN." 49 


and horrible tales of sailors who had been 
shipwrecked “ with all on board,” or had been 
cast away on desert islands, or every one mur- 
dered by pirates, or eaten by cannibals, or kept 
for slaves. Occasionally a hero — in these 
stories usually Young John — would be saved 
alive in some wondrous way, and come home, 
and land at the wharf Over the Hill, bringing 
such things as vessels sometimes did bring 
there, — pretty waxworks, and shells, and cor- 
dials, and tamarind preserves. 

Emily Alden always claimed special right in 
telling tales of Young John’s return; for the 
reason that before the Aldens moved down from 
Bridgton and bought the old Lawson House, 
Gaffer and Gammer Lawson used sometimes 
during his school-days to invite him to stay 
overnight in case of great storms. 


50 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


VII. 

NS UPSETTING AND WHAT CAME OF IT. 

As Old John and the woman and the horse 
disappeared, a sudden “ T-o-o-o-o-o-t ! ” called 
the party to the Truly Supper, which indeed it 
was ; and although the “ fried boys ” got twisted 
in the frying, did not the cloves stuck in for 
eyes show which was the face side ? 

At Aunt Nancy’s bidding, the older girls 
started on a tight run for her great flower- 
garden, and brought back their hands full of 
bachelor’s-buttons, clove pinks, bouncing-bets, 
London-pride, touch-me-nots, four-o’clocks and 
sweet-williams for decorating the table. And 
a pretty sight it was — the whole scene 1 
The snow-white tablecloth, the bright flowers, 
the plates of cakes, the quaint pitchers and 
tumblers, the children in their picturesque 
clothes sitting around against chance rocks or 
trunks of trees, some of whose old crooked 
branches bent low enough for seats, while here 
and there a very smart and very giggling one 
of the “ little ones ” would perch herself on a 
crotch in the boughs above, and peep through 
the leaves ready for whatever dainty might be 
handed up. 


AN UPSETTING AND WHAT CAME OF IT- 51 


The repast was just about finished, when 
suddenly appeared among them an uninvited 
guest whose name was Caper. He came rat- 
tling in at a furious rate, bringing his roller-cart. 
The rattling was made by something in the 
cart. He had been Over the Hill with a bundle, 
as was learned afterwards, and in coming back 
home had lost Lyddy and was crazy to find her. 

Now as to what rattled, we ought to beg its 
pardon — considering it helped to name this 
story — for so late a mention, and for being 
introduced in such a ridiculous manner. Though 
only a humble flatiron, it had a grand name, 
and was well-known in X-Roads as “ Granny’s 
Unicorn.” It had been thus named from a 
curious one-horned figure stamped upon it. It 
differed from its common kind of relatives in 
being much smaller, and much more pointed, 
and in having a much finer polish. On these 
accounts it was now and then borrowed for 
very nice and delicate ironing, and especially 
for men’s ruffled shirt-bosoms ; and Phoebe Jack- 
son and Adeline Holmes were glad to get hold 
of Granny’s Unicorn when doing up their fine 
worked tuckers. Moreover, it was owing to so 
much borrowing — but this belongs to another 
part of the story and will have to wait. 

But Granny’s Unicorn did not have to wait 
on that gala-day in the orchard. In his swift 
career to find Lyddy, Caper flew here and there, 
under the table, in among the children, into the 
front-yard of the Mammy Doty, even into its 


52 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


front-room, where he knocked Great Gomorrah 
over, and mixed up the corncob twins and the 
wishbone infants in long-clothes ; then hitting 
the tea-kettle, and knocking down the slender- 
legged table with the handkerchief over its 
shoulder. Then out he rushed, still frantic ; and 
when at last the cart itself was overturned 
against a stump, and Caper had been held still 
long enough for it to be righted — it was found 
to be empty. 

Away went Caper and the cart — and then 
such a hunt as there was for the Unicorn! 
While the grown-up ones poked with sticks, 
the children crawled swiftly here and there, 
arms outstretched, fingers feeling in among the 
grass, hurrying, meeting, turning, till the party 
was exactly like an ants’ nest broken up ! 

Aunt Nancy, seeing there were plenty to do 
the searching, stepped aside to help Toosey 
repair damages in the Mammy Doty, and in so 
doing she caught sight of something light- 
colored like a gown-skirt over across among 
some high bushes, nearly opposite a gap in the 
wall ; and at the same instant, Mr. Caper came 
rattling along again, his head up, snuffing the 
air, saying as well as he could, “ Where is she ? 
She is here somewhere ! ” As he reached the 
gap he gave a glad little yelp, and dashed 
straight through, breaking a wheel short off in 
his sharp turn, and ran into the bushes. 

What could be the matter with Caper? Aunt 
Nancy thought she knew. Calling Phcebe Jack- 


AN UPSETTING AND WHAT CAME OF IT. 53 


son and Adeline Holmes to help the “little 
ones ” gather up their dolls and start for home, 
she followed Caper through the gap. 

Back of a tall clump of bushes she saw Lyddy, 
Granny’s child, crouched on the ground, sob- 
bing. Caper, cart and all, with his paws on 
her shoulders and the cart half in her lap, and 
the harness in a tangle, was seeking to comfort 
her. 

Neither of them saw Aunt Nancy, and she 
stood still a moment in silence. Poor little 
child of the hut on T’other-side ! She had 
been staying in the pasture, among the bushes, 
watching the party! 

Aunt Nancy hardly knew what to do. She 
could only sit down by the child, and put 
Caper to one side, and ask kind questions 
which were answered only by motions of the 
head. Would Lyddy come into the orchard 
with Aunt Nancy? No! Would she like 
some cake? No! Or a Doughnut Boy? No! 
Might Aunt Nancy put her arm round Lyddy? 
Yes ; and with a fresh burst of tears Lyddy let 
her head drop on Aunt Nancy’s shoulder. 
Would she come to the store before sunset to 
get a few things that were to go to Granny’s ? 
“ Yes ” — in a whisper. 

This, with a walk part way home with her, 
was the best plan Aunt Nancy could then think 
of for seeing more of the child. 

But who comes here ? 

The Unicorn had been found, and the 


54 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


“ mothers ” had taken the “ little ones ” and 
gone over to Emily Alden’s to make them- 
selves ready for home. Then it was that 
Toosey (still lingering about her great play- 
house) got sight of Aunt Nancy, and hearing 
Caper, came skipping across to see what was 
going on there among the bushes. 

Aunt Nancy had a bright thought. She said 
to Toosey, “ Don’t you want to show Lyddy 
your Mammy Doty ? ” 

Indeed Toosey did. She put out her hand, 
and Lyddy got up and took hold of it, rather 
bashfully ; and away went the two through the 
gap and across to the Orchard Corner, noisy 
Caper, frisky Caper, leaping ahead with his 
broken cart, and leaping back, every bark a 
shout for joy, and saying almost in words, “ Oh, 
I am so glad 1 I am so glad ! ” 

And dear Aunt Nancy looked on, almost 
with tears in her eyes, as little Toosey, full of 
pity for one who had not even seen the Mammy 
Doty, showed her, one by one, the prettiest 
things in the bedroom, and her choicest china 
and glass; and tearful Lyddy actually laughed 
when she saw the corncob twins. 

There was a “fried boy” left; and Toosey 
brought her that and a couple of little sugar- 
sprinkled cookies, besides one of the ripe plums, 
and hurried to give Caper a cake before he 
should wag his tail off with begging. 

“ They made me this Mammy Doty,” Toosey 
explained, “ because I am six years old. I wish 


AN UPSETTING AND WHAT CAME OF IT. 55 


you would stop and play with me in my 
Mammy Doty, when you go home nights. 

Lyddy put her arm around the child. “ I’ll 
ask Granny,” she said, a more cheerful ex- 
pression lighting up her face — an intelligent 
face, Aunt Nancy thought it, with a remarkably 
pleasant look about the eyes. 

Lyddy stood looking at the china and glass 
ware and the tin basins. A sudden pretty 
smile came into her eyes. 

“ I get * findin’s,’ too,” she said, taking up one 
of them. “ I put water and something to truly 
eat in mine.” 

“ Oh, do you have a Mammy Doty ? ” asked 
Toosey. 

“No,” said Lyddy, laughing. 

« Then where do you put your * findin’s ’ ? ” 
asked Toosey. 

“ Oh — in good places.” 

“ Outdoors ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ And do you have children ? ” asked Toosey, 
taking up one of the ragbabies. 

“ No — oh, yes, I do, too ! ” laughing again, 
as if mightily tickled. 

“ Could Toosey and I come and see it all ? ” 
asked Aunt Nancy. 

Toosey’s countenance showed so much anxi- 
ety for the answer that Lyddy could not help 
laughing. “ Yes, indeed ! ” she said, looking up 
with a roguish smile at Aunt Nancy. “ Come 
right after school. Come Wednesday after- 


56 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


noon, because school leaves off early then. 
And, Toosey ! bring your huckleberry basket ! 
I know some thick spots ! ” 

And thus it happened that the next Wednes- 
day afternoon Aunt Nancy and Toosey set 
off on a walk over T’other-side, to see what 
Toosey persisted in calling, “ Lyddy’s Mammy 
Doty.” 


T' OTHER-SIDE. 


57 


VIII. 

t’other-side. 

Aunt Nancy had never seen a great deal of 
Granny and Lyddy. They came there before 
the Aldens moved down from Bridgton to 
take the old Lawson house ; and she knew 
Granny only as an honest, hard-working wo- 
man who lived the other side of the brook, near 
the woods, and supported herself and Lyddy. 

When the other girls had gone home, after 
the party, she questioned Emily and Janet. 

Why had Lyddy not been invited ? 

They had nothing to . say against her ; they 
— didn’t think very much about it, or else 
thought maybe she would not be wanted, as 
the girls didn’t “ go round ” with her any. 

Was not Lyddy a well-behaved girl at school? 
Oh, yes! Was she a poor scholar? Oh, no! 
she had been up to the head a great many 
times. 

Was she in their class? Yes. Was it not 
unkind, then, to leave her out? The girls 
looked at each other ; but neither seemed able 
to give an answer, and Aunt Nancy thought it 
best to say no more just then. 


58 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


Wednesday afternoon was pleasant. Aunt 
Nancy and Toosey found Granny sitting in the 
doorway, having in her lap the “ Easy Lessons ” 
— a child’s reader, and with it a small, square, 
old-fashioned dictionary. 

She arose to invite them in ; but Aunt Nancy 
took a seat on a nice, clean wash-bench near 
the door, and Lyddy and Toosey sat down on 
the flat stone step. 

It was a pretty place. Woodsy kinds of 
trees circled around ; the birds were numerous, 
and Aunt Nancy was surprised to see them so 
tame, hopping over the ground, even coming 
quite near. 

Toosey whispered that she would like to see 
the Mammy Doty. Lyddy smiled, and took 
Toosey ’s hand ; and Aunt Nancy arose, too, and 
they went around to one side of the hut, where 
it was shady, yet open and pretty, and some 
white-barked birches grew, their happy little 
leaves rustling softly in the gentle breeze, whis- 
pering to each other. It was quite grassy, but 
still there was a garden look about the place. 
Some old barberry bushes were in blossom, quite 
spangled over with their little yellow-gilded flow- 
ers ; and near by some elderberry bushes, heavy 
with flat, snow-white disks of bloom. There 
was a row of sunflowers, too, and a little seat. 

Aunt Nancy sat down on the bench ; but 
Toosey stood, looking all around and far away. 
“Where is the Mammy Doty?” she asked. 

“ Why, all this is it,” replied Lyddy. And 


T OTHER-SIDE. 


59 


then Aunt Nancy called Toosey’s attention to 
the “ findings ” which, in the shape of old cups 
and bowls and tin porringers, and a shallow 
pan or two, were to be seen in various “ good 
places ” near the bushes. 

From a chicken-coop under one of the elder- 
berry bushes came forth some little yellow, 
fluffy baby chickens, a motherly old white hen 
in charge. They went to drink from a shallow 
pan, dipping in their bills, and at each dip lift- 
ing them up, as if to give thanks. Afterwards 
they went to another pan and ate meal-mush, 
and after that nipped a little grass. Lyddy 
scattered some grain for them, too, broken 
wheat, whereupon flocks of little brown birds 
came flying down out of the numerous trees, and 
went hopping about, eating with the chickens, 
and helping themselves to whatever they liked 
in the various other Mammy Doty “ findings.” 

But Toosey had frequently seen birds and 
chickens eating together, and she didn’t take so 
very much interest until suddenly Lyddy began 
to whistle, first softly, then a little louder, then 
a little louder still — a bird-note kind of whistle. 
Three yellowbirds came, as if in answer, and 
lighted at one side where, on a rude trellis 
made of sticks, sweet-peas were in bloom, and 
began to bite and eat the flowers. Lyddy said 
she and Granny made the trellis and planted the 
vines, because yellowbirds were fond of sweet- 
peas. The birds were very tame, and didn’t 
mind Aunt Nancy and Toosey being there. 


60 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


The sunflowers, Lyddy explained, were 
planted purposely for food for birds in winter, 
when snow covers everything, so that they can 
get no seeds from the pine cones, or among the 
bushes, or even in swamps. At such times, she 
said, the chickadees filled the woods and thick- 
ets, and came flocking down near the hut. She 
left the barberries for them, she said, and they 
would light on the bushes in clouds. 

“ You have a great many children to feed 
in your playhouse, haven’t you?” said Aunt 
Nancy. “ And they won’t eat make-believes, 
like Toosey’s children, will they?” 

Little Toosey laughed. She was beginning 
to see Lyddy’s Mammy Doty. 

For the last moment Lyddy had been making 
a queer kind of chirruping sound with her 
mouth. It was soft, yet distinct and very 
clearly to be heard. She made it several times, 
as if she were calling something ; and Toosey 
looked everywhere, anxious to see something 
come. And what do you think came? Two 
lovely gray squirrels, with rich fur and bright 
eyes, and great handsome tails. They ran 
down the trunk of a venerable oak, and came 
and sat down in front of Lyddy, curled their 
tails over their heads and looked up at her as 
if waiting. They must have noticed Toosey 
and Aunt Nancy, but they gave no sign. 
Lyddy took some corn from her pocket and 
scattered it around. The squirrels ate a little, 
and then, to Toosey’s astonishment, came up 


T' OTHER-SIDE. 


61 


Lyddy’s dress and into her lap. Toosey was 
almost afraid; but Lyddy tapped their furry 
cheeks, and let them come up on her shoulder 
and sit close to her face. After a moment she 
took three or four nuts from her pocket, and 
dropped them on the ground ; and then Toosey 
saw the beautiful creatures carry them away 
in their mouths, one by one, and bury them. 
Just as long as Lyddy’s supply lasted they 
bounded back and forth between the old oak 
and the little seat. 

Toosey looked up with a pleased smile. 
Then she got down from her seat. “ I should 
like to have a live Mammy Doty !” she said. 

Aunt Nancy smiled, too. “ It is a lovely 
one, a dear one, Lyddy. If you will let Toosey 
and the girls ” — 

But suddenly they hear shoutings and bark- 
ings and rattlings and callings. 

You will wonder where Caper has been all 
this time. At the carpenter’s, waiting for the 
mending of his cart. This is he now, bringing 
the cart and the Unicorn ; and with him have 
come Janet and Emily and Lucetta, to walk 
back with Aunt Nancy and Toosey. 

Aunt Nancy says there is still time to go 
for huckleberries, and away they speed — five 
girls and a dog. And Aunt Nancy goes inside 
with Granny, thinking how good it is that this 
child, with only Granny and Caper to love, has 
found close about her nature’s delightful com- 
panionship. 


62 THE FLA TIE ON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


IX. 

WHISPERS. 

Everything in the hut was snug and neat. 
The spinning-wheel stood back in one corner. 
A draw-curtain of chintz hid most of the pans, 
kettles, and pails from sight. There was an 
old pitcher with flowers in it upon the table. 

Garments hung quite near Aunt Nancy; 
among them a long, red broadcloth cloak, so 
rich in color that it lighted up the room, shin- 
ing out like a great red rose-bush in full bloom. 

“ Oh, what a beautiful cloak ! ” said Aunt 
Nancy. “Remarkably nice heavy cloth! Don’t 
you ever wear it? ” 

A strange expression came upon Granny’s 
face. It was a minute or two before she spoke. 

“Yes, it is a handsome cloak,” she said at 
last ; “ and comfortable, very. It is warm — 
and it comforts me. When I’ve been clear dis- 
couraged that cloak has heartened me up — oh 

— many’s the time ! ” 

“ But I don’t ever wear it,” she added, after 
a pause. “ That cloak, Miss Alden, belonged 
to Lyddy’s mother. Lyddy’ll have it, sometime 

— and all it’s w orth.” 


WHISPERS. 


63 


Aunt Nancy thought that Granny had a 
rather mysterious way of speech, but passed 
it by. 

“ Lyddy’s mother — do tell me something 
about Lyddy’s mother,” she said. 

Granny did not speak at once. She seemed 
disturbed. “ I want to,” she said, finally. “ I 
do want to talk with you. I ought to talk with 
somebody — I know that. Bat I should like 
to wait a little. I’m not certain it’s best for 
Lyddy — quite yet. But I know somebody, 
some one person, ought to be told. I’m getting 
old — something may happen to me. And I do 
feel you’d be the right person, Miss Alden. 
I’ve thought, sometimes, that I would go to 
you. I will tell you one thing.” 

Granny drew closer, leaned forward, and 
spoke low : “ Lyddy is not my grandchild, 
Miss Alden.” 

“ How did you come b} r her, then ? ” asked 
Aunt Nancy, also speaking low. “ Not your 
grandchild ! But she has your name, Lydia 
Brennan. Isn’t it her own name ? ” 

Another pause. “ Isn’t it her own ? ” Aunt 
Nancy repeated. 

“ That name was given to her rightful,” 
said Granny after a moment. 

“ And wasn’t it her father’s name ? ” 

“ It was my name,” said Granny with some 
warmth. “ And my Lyddy wears it rightful 
and true.” 

“ Granny, Mrs. Brennan,” said Aunt Nancy, 


64 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


taking Granny’s hand in her own. “ Tell me, 
won’t you. What was her father’s and what 
was her mother’s name ? ” 

“ Oh, that’s just what I mustn’t, Miss Alden ; 
not now, not yet,” said Granny. “ But my 
Lyddy is true, good blood ; true as anybody’s 
in this town ! I’ll tell you how I know it. I 
lived in the same house three years with her 
mother. I was a Nova Scotia woman and came 
down to Portland ; and when I was left a widow 
I had my room in a boarding-house, and did 
washing and ironing. And Lyddy ’s mother was 
in the same house. A young English woman, 
she was, and kept a school for little girls, 
where they learned to read and spell and do 
nice needlework — all kinds of stitches on 
cambric, silks, muslins, satins — everything. 
She was a great lover of books. She owned 
the Simple Susan books, and I’ve got ’em all laid 
away — * Lazy Lawrence ’ — all of ’em — for 
Lyddy. And she fell in love with the mate of 
a vessel that coasted between Portland and the 
Southern places, and he the same with her, and 
they married — and maybe you know how it 
used to be with sailors havin’ to leave their 
sweethearts, and their wives and their families. 
After long waiting he got a chance to go mate 
on a voyage way over t’other side the world, 
and — that’s all. He never came back ; nor the 
ship. Oh, how I did pity that heart-broke 
young mother, crying over her baby. ’Twas 
hard to see her a-waitin’ and a-hopin’ and 


WHISPERS. 


65 


a-watchin’, and finally wearing her life away! 
I was there with her and a-standin’ her friend 
and helper as well as one like me could. I 
knew it all, all ! ” said Granny, her voice 
trembling. “But of course,” she added, “ you 
can’t never know. Nobody could.” 

Aunt Nancy drew up very close to Granny, 
and, taking her hand, said, in a voice as low as 
Granny’s, “ I do know. I had a sailor lover. 
He never came back. It was when we lived in 
Bridgton. He belonged in New Bedford. 
We were going to live there.” 

“ And did you wait, and hope, and look, and 
expect — day after day ? day after day ? ” 

“ No,” said Aunt Nancy. “ His family in 
New Bedford got a letter from an American 
sailor who saw him die, and saw him buried.” 

“ Then you can't know,” said Granny. “ It 
was the watchin’ and waitin’ and hopin’ and 
cryin’, and givin’ up hope, that wore her out, 
and so the poor thing pined away. I took care 
of her, and loved her; but she faded out, and 
went. Foreseein’ this, and that the child — 
Lyddy, you know — would be left behind, she’d 
given me directions to have all her goods sold, 
except the Unicorn flatiron that was my weddin’ 
gift to her, and her Simple Susan books that 
her father bought for her in England, and this 
red broadcloth cloak that was her sailor’s wed- 
din’ present. These three things I was never 
to part with.” 

“ And she gave you the child ? ” Aunt Nancy 
asked. 


66 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


Granny was slow in answering. “ I can’t 
say that,” she said. “ But she put her in my 
hands to give away, when — when I could make 
her instructions come right. But ” — here 
Granny stopped again. 

“ Don’t you think it would be better to tell 
me more,” asked Aunt Nancy, kindly, after a 
while. “ Don’t you think I’d better know those 
instructions ? ” 

“ Maybe I’d better tell you some of them,” 
said Granny. “ I was to take the child and go 
by coasters — the cheapest way — to the place 
where her father came from, and make careful 
inquiries about her kindred livin’ there, and give 
her as a present from the child’s mother to the 
one most likely to see that she had good 
schoolin’. 

“ And I have got as far as here in obeying my 
instructions,” said Granny, after a pause, at the 
same time getting up as if to show that she had 
finished. 

But Aunt Nancy persisted, and would not 
release her hand. “What town was it?” she 
asked. “ Couldn’t you find it ? Why are you 
staying here ? And so long ! There must be 
some reason! Won’t you tell me ? ” 

Granny released herself, almost forcibly. 
She went to the door and stood, looking out. 
Aunt Nancy could see how nervously the thin 
old hands worked and grasped each other, and 
the tremulous twitching of her lips. 

“ I believe, Granny,” she said, after watching 
2171 66 p el 


WHISPERS. 


67 


her a few minutes, “ that this ought to be told 
to somebody , if not to me. It will comfort you 
afterward to think that you have secured Lyddy 
another friend, another guardian.” 

Granny sat down again. “ Miss Alden,” she 
said, “ you don’t know how bad it might prove 
to be for Lyddy, and I do.” 

“ But suppose anything were to happen to 
you, and hinder you from telling even the name 
of the town,” Aunt Nancy whispered. 

“ Yes ! ” said Granny when she spoke again. 
“ No doubt I ought to tell that. And you are 
good. You are her friend. I’ll tell you so 
much.” Leaning forward she spoke one word, 
very softly. 

“ Yes,” said Aunt Nancy, as softly. “ And 
now, what was his name, Mrs. Brennan ? ” 

Granny walked a few steps away, then 
back, then stooped and spoke in Aunt Nancy’s 
ear. 

Aunt Nancy saw nothing especially strange 
in what had been disclosed to her, that is to 
say, nothing unlikely. 

“ Not strange at all ! ” she said to herself. 
Yet was her heart full of a feeling so very 
strange that it almost made her faint with 
thankfulness. 

She smiled at Granny. “ But why, why," she 
asked, “ should it be any harm to tell this? To 
tell it all ? ” 

“ Why 'cause — don’t you see ? ” And here 
Granny spoke in whispers again. Then she 


68 TEE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 

said aloud, as she sat down by Aunt Nancy, “ I 
I couldn’t approve of that ! I couldn’t give up 
my little Lyddy that way ! It’s going to most 
kill me to give her up any way ! ” 

“ I see ! You good, true, faithful woman ! ” 
said Aunt Nancy, taking Granny’s hand in both 
of her own. “No doubt you’ve done wisely. 
And you ought not to be separated from Lyddy. 
I have seen enough of her already to know 
what a nice child she is, and how dear she must 
be to you ! ” 

“ Still, my Lyddy ought to have her chances ; 
her good schoolin’. I know it! I know it 
well ! ” said Granny, in tears now. “ I don’t 
know what ought to be done — but I couldn't 
give her there ! She wouldn’t get her chances 
there , Miss Alden. You know it! ” 

“Well, ’twill all come right yet. We two 
together shall find out what to do, somehow,” 
said Aunt Nancy cheerily. “ I’m so glad I know 
all this that you’ve told me ! ” 

“ I used to hope her father would come and 
find her somehow,” said Granny, as if glad to 
talk. “ I couldn’t read much. I’ve tried to 
teach myself, along with Lyddy helpin’, so I 
could spell out the ship-news. But I never 
find nothin’.” 

The sudden inrush of Caper announced that 
the girls were not far off. 

“ Does Lyddy know she had that good father, 
and about her mother?” asked Aunt Nancy 
hurriedly. 


WHISPERS. 


69 


“ I’ve never talked much that way,” said 
Granny in low tones. “ It seemed best not to. 
She knows that when she was a baby her mother 
died; and knows, too, that when she was a baby 
her father went to sea and never was heard from. 
She thinks I'm her Granny, and that seems best, 
and to have her called by my name — for a 
while — but not too long. Something will have 
to be done. She’s growin’ up. She’ll have to 
take her father’s name. You’ll have to think 
it out. And , Miss Alden, if anything should 
happen to me, you take good care of that red 
cloak for her. 

And here Granny again spoke in whispers, 
telling something evidently of very great impor- 
tance, and finishing hastily at the near sound of 
voices. 

The merry rovers came skipping in, rosy and 
laughing ; and as Aunt Nancy glanced at Lyddy’s 
bright face she felt that to make a rightful place 
for her with girls of her own age, was not going 
to be one of the cares which the talk with 
Granny had caused her to take upon herself. 

In fact, the girls spent the very next Satur- 
day afternoon at T’other-side, and afterwards 
came in great glee to tell Aunt Nancy all 
about it. 

“ Oh ! ” said Emily. “ Such a good time ! 
Granny showed us how to make some English 
cakes, and we baked them over the coals in her 
creeper. And she knows ever so many songs. 
I mean to learn that funny one about ‘ Yonder 


70 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


he be ! ’ This is the way it goes : ‘ His waist- 
coat it is pink and oh, yonder he he! And he 
loves me I think, oh, yonder he he ! He's a honny 
conny lad and I loves him too !' And there are 
more verses.” 

“ Granny keeps one foot a-going while she 
sings — this way ! ” said Janet, “ and makes 
motions with her chin — this way ! ” 

“ And now and then she snaps her fingers 
— this way ! ” said Lucetta. “ And Lyddy hops 
to the time of them.” 

“ You have had a good time,” said Aunt 
Nancy, laughing. “ Just invite me when you go 
again. I want to hear all the verses of ‘ Oh, 
yonder he he ! ' ” 


THE UNWORN 'S MESSAGE. 


71 


X. 

THE UNICORN’S MESSAGE. 

It was a dark snowy evening in November; 
but the Aldens’ big kitchen was warm and 
bright, for in its spacious fireplace a blazing fire 
lighted up the long room, from the bedroom and 
buttery doors, at one end, to the rows of shining 
pewter platters and porringers on the “ dresser ” 
at the other. 

Now and then some horseback traveler was 
heard to pass ; but the weather was threatening, 
and for the most part families were all at home, 
sheltered from the swift-falling snow. 

The stage from Boston had not been heard to 
go by. It was late that evening. Emily and 
Polly and Calvin were long before in bed. Mr. 
Alden sat half-dozing at one side of the fire- 
place. Mrs. Alden was carding wool for her 
next day’s spinning. Aunt Nancy was reading 
at the candle-stand. 

“ I do believe somebody or other is knocking 
at our front-door ! ” said Mrs. Alden, suddenly 
laying down her cards. “ Who can it be ! ” For 
in X-Roads no one ever thought of knocking. 
Aunt Nancy said she had just thought she 
heard something stop. 


72 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


Another knock. Mr. Alden went to look, 
and found a man standing on the doorstep, 
stamping off the snow. Quite a large man, a 
stranger. 

The man asked Mr. Alden for Gaffer Lawson 
or Gammer Lawson. In former times, he said, 
they had sometimes taken in people in need of 
a night’s lodging. He had now called for that, 
as he expected to hire a horse in the morning 
and go farther. 

Mr. Alden told him that Gaffer and Gammer 
Lawson had been some years dead, and that he 
had moved into the place and bought the house. 
Then he gave him a hearty invitation to come 
in and pass the night. 

Mrs. Alden and Aunt Nancy hearing this — 
the entry door standing open — started both at 
once to make the stranger welcome, Mrs. Alden 
stopping to shove the tea-kettle along over the 
hottest place. 

The stranger walked in with his little trunk 
— a hair-covered, round-topped one, studded 
with brass nails, of the kind then in common 
use. Aunt Nancy slipped out to see to a bed 
being made comfortable. Mrs. Alden snugged 
up her wool, seated the stranger by the fire, and 
in a few minutes had made him a cup of tea 
and drawn up a small table, and sat him out a 
plentiful meal. 

During his supper the man asked a few ques- 
tions about Gaffer and Gammer Lawson, but 
did not make much talk. 


THE UNICORN'S MESSAGE. 


73 


Aunt Nancy came and took away the tea- 
things, and then sat down with her knitting, 
and Mrs. Alden did the same. Mr. Alden asked 
a few questions about the weather on towards 
Boston, which were answered politely, though 
in few words. 

Mrs. Alden, having noticed that the guest 
ate too little for a traveler, and that he sat 
uneasily in his chair and cast his eyes unrest- 
fully about, was sure that something ailed him, 
and that he ought to have a good mugful of 
hot motherwort tea, made peppery with one of 
the red peppers that hung by a string over the 
mantle piece. 

While mentally deciding between motherwort 
and catnip, she was startled to see the stranger 
step to the fireplace and closely examine 
Granny’s Unicorn, which Aunt Nancy had 
brought home for doing up her muslins. 

“ This seems to be not of American make,” 
he said, looking at the mark stamped upon it. 

“ No,” said Mrs. Alden, glad of something to 
say. “We call that the ‘Unicorn.’ You see 
the stamp on it. We borrow it, once in a while, 
from a poor woman living in a little hut over 
the other side the brook, ’bout half a mile off. 
She isn’t native to these parts.” 

Then she went on to tell various things about 
the poor woman who came there, before they 
moved into the place, with her grandchild, 
Lyddy, a little girl at that time about two years 
old, now nine, or thereabouts. 


74 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 

“ I think you did not mention her name,” 
said the stranger, after a pause. 

“ She usually goes by the name of Granny. 
I really don’t know her last name ; but I think 
her given name is Sylvie.” 

“Her name,” said Aunt Nancy, “is Sylvie 
Brennan.” 

The stranger, who appeared to be getting 
more and more restless, said no more. He 
walked away from the hearth, looked out the 
window, glanced at the clock, which said half- 
past nine — an extremely late hour for X-Roads 
— went again to the window, walked several 
times across the floor, and finally took up his 
little trunk, and Mr. Alden went with him up 
to his chamber. 

Mrs. Alden began, at once to prepare the 
pepper tea. 

“For I know I shall be called up in the 
night,” she said to Aunt Nancy. “ That man’s 
feverish. He’s a little out No man in his full 
senses would take so much notice of a flatiron, 
or ask so many questions about anybody he 
never saw or heard of. And what’s the matter 
with you? You’re trembling like a leaf ! You’ve 
catched a sudden cold. I’ll get you something 
to take ! ” 

“ Oh, I’m all right ! ” said Aunt Nancy, and 
slipped away to her chamber. 

And there she clasped her hands, and walked 
the floor, and laughed and cried both together, 
and offered up prayers of thankfulness. For 


THE UNICORN'S MESSAGE. 


75 


oh, it was, it was the very one ! He had come 
back ! He had ! He had ! “ And he remem- 

bers Granny ! ” she laughed. He feels sure 
that child is his — and he hadn’t even known 
she was alive! Joy! Joy! Joy! — why, of 
course ! of course ! It must be the one ! It 
can be no other! Were not the initials in 
brass-nail letters on the top of his trunk ? Dear 
Lyddy! Dear Granny! Will morning never 
come ? ” 

Joy brought Aunt Nancy a wakeful night. 
At the first peep of day she heard their guest 
go softly down and out. 

The Unicorn had brought him a message ! 


76 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


CHAPTER XI. 
in granny's hut. 

Granny was preparing breakfast for herself 
and Lyddy in the gray of the November morning 
when she caught sight of a man, a stranger, 
walking about the place, in the snow, and now 
and then looking towards her windows. She 
had not seen him coming up the path, and it 
startled her. Caper saw him, too, at about the 
same moment, and in an instant had his paws 
on the window-sill, barking furiously. 

Lyddy went to look ; but just then the man 
turned, and came to the doorstep and knocked. 
At this Caper barked worse than ever, and 
Lyddy nearly fell over him as she went to open 
the door. 

The man stepped inside and closed the door. 
Lyddy thought he seemed a very nice man, a 
kindly kind of man. Probably some visitor in 
the place needing washing done, she thought. 
But he still waited by the door, looking very 
earnestly down upon her. 

“ Whose little girl is this ? ” he asked, at last. 

“ Granny Brennan’s,” said Lyddy. 

“ I wish you’d be my little girl,” he said, ex- 
tending his hand. 


IN GRANNY'S HUT. 


77 


Lyddy drew back, looking towards Granny, 
who had stopped to place her bannocks up 
against the andirons to brown, but was now 
coming forward. 

The stranger had removed his hat; and as 
Granny stepped nearer she gave him a long, 
steady look. “ Almighty God ! ” she exclaimed 
“ John Holmes ! Lyddy, come here to me ! ” she 
begged, and sank upon the floor, crying aloud 
like a little child. 

Lyddy looked at the man almost in terror, as 
he hurried by her to Granny, and the look 
seemed to agitate him even more than Granny’s 
words. “ Sylvie,” said he, “ tell her, tell her ! ” 

Granny was trying to sit up, trying, too, to 
calm herself. “ I will, John,” she said, “ just as 
soon as I can,” and when fairly on her feet she 
did lead Lyddy to the strajiger. 

“ Lyddy,” she said in a voice that trembled, 
“ you know your father was a sailor and never 
came back from sea. You know that I had 
hopes that he would, and he has — he stands 
right here with us now. Lyddy, this is your 
father, really your father ! ” 

Lyddy looked at him and began to cry. The 
stranger drew her towards him, tears in his 
own eyes; and all this so enraged Caper, that he 
seemed to be flying at the whole group, though 
his aim was just to seize and bite the man’s 
hand. 

This act of Caper’s was the best thing that 
could have happened ; for in trying to quiet him 

L.ofC. 


78 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


Lyddy quieted herself, and as John Holmes and 
Granny could not but laugh at the great bluster 
the little dog made, by the time Caper went off 
to his bone their tears had got dried. 

“ You must call him father,” whispered 
Granny, as they shut the door on Caper. Then 
she sat down, letting breakfast wait. “ John 
Holmes,” she said, “ where did you come from ? ” 

Lyddy had not refused to go to her father ; 
and now before he could answer she started up 
from his shoulder, for at the sound of his name 
again, all the talk she had heard about John 
Holmes came rushing to her mind. “ Oh, 
Granny!” she cried, “is my father Young 
John ? Is he ? ” 

“ Yes, Lyddy,” said her father and Granny 
together, both smiling at the expression on 
the child’s face. 

The wonderful fact seemed too much for 
Lyddy to contain. After a moment she sank 
back, and her father put his arm around her 
again. There her thoughts dwelt upon what 
Janet would say, and Lucetta, and Emily Alden. 
The hero of all the stories was her father ! 

“Where did I come from, Sylvie?” John 
Holmes repeated. “ Many places. So many 
that I feel almost like an old man, Sylvie. But 
just now from Portland. Not a trace of her, or 
of you, could I find — only the gravestone 1 
Then I came here to learn who of my friends 
were yet among the living. I heard of father at 
once from the stage-driver and from an old 


IN GRANNY'S HUT. 


79 


hunter who came part way from Boston in the 
stage. But I did not hear of you.” 

Lyddy had started up again. “ Why, father ! ” 
she exclaimed, “is Old John my grandfather?” 

“Doesn’t my child know that?” he asked 
Granny, in surprise. 

“ No,” said Granny, but waited to tell her 
story later — how she had feared lest Old John 
should claim his granddaughter, and take her 
up to The Meadows to live with the dogs and 
the hunters, where she could get no “school- 
ing ; ” and how she had kept everything to her- 
self in order to carry out the instructions 
received from the child’s mother. 

“ Yes, my child,” said her father. “Old John 
is your grandfather, and this very afternoon we 
will go up and see him. He won’t be so very 
much surprised to see me, but he will be sur- 
prised to see you , Lyddy ! Ke always used to 
say he should never give me up as lost, for I 
always came unexpected.” 

“ I guess,” said Lyddy, starting up again and 
interrupting them, “ that we won’t let my grand- 
father live way up there alone, will we, father? ” 

“I guess we won’t,” he replied, “unless he’d 
rather. But he loves his hunting-grounds, and 
he may not like to leave them. Many nice 
people fond of hunting come to see him there, 
I hear ; and did you know that all the Holmeses 
Over the Hill were your cousins? ” 

“ She don’t know anything about them,” said 
Granny. “ I had either got to give her up 


80 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 

to some of them, or to her grandfather, or else 
keep silent.” 

Lyddy hardly seemed to realize what they 
were saying. She cared nothing for any of 
“ the Holmeses.” It was quite all she could 
take in — that she had a father and a grand- 
father. If Granny’s words roused any feel- 
ing in the child it was that it would have 
been something not to be thought of — that 
she should go away from Granny. 

“ Well, I guess this little girl has been pretty 
well brought up,” said he, with a grateful look 
at Granny. “I guess she’s been kept in the 
right hands. It’s all right, Sylvie.” 

Granny looked pleased. “ After breakfast 
you shall hear Lyddy read and spell,” she said, 
“ and see what fine sewing she can do. Her 
mother was anxious about that.” 

“ No money can ever repay you, Sylvie,” said 
he. “ But money ! we are all poor together. 
For, Sylvie, I have hardly twenty dollars in the 
world ! But I can work ; there are plenty of 
things I can do, even on land. For I shall 
never go to sea again, Sylvie, my travels are 
done. I never could leave this child ! I nevef 
mean to.” 

“Oh! you are not so very poor, John,” said 
Granny. She got up and took down the red 
cloak, and laid it in his lap, over Lyddy, and 
stood waiting. 

Lyddy sat up, and looked at Granny in 
wonder. Lyddy’s father sat up too, and took 


IN GRANNY'S HUT. 


81 


the cloak. A new expression came on his face. 
He looked like another man. He had forgotten 
his young wife’s cloak — the beautiful red cloak 
he had given her on that wintry wedding-day. 

Granny looked at him, smiling. “ It’s all 
there, John,” she said, “just as you and she 
hemmed it in. She never had to use it, and I 
have never had to. She told me to, in case of 
need. We’ve got along, and I wanted to save 
it for Lyddy. But it has been a comfort, John 
— such a comfort to know it was there ! Why 
don’t you open it? ” 

He took out his knife, and ran the sharp 
blade carefully along a section of the deep hem 
and brought to light two Bank of England 
notes ; of large denomination they were too. 
He turned away from the sight with pure grati- 
tude to heaven ! And then old feelings rushed 
over him. How well he remembered the time, 
and the very room, where he stood over his 
bonny brown-haired young wife and saw her 
sew those notes in ! It was the day after their 
wedding, and the notes represented all he had 
saved from his voyages. 

Granny’s lips trembled too — but Granny 
was thinking of the future. And Lyddy under- 
stood far more than she could have told them, 
at least she understood dear Granny’s part in 
it ! How many times she had seen dear Granny 
stand before the beautiful red cloak and pat it 
softly — dear Granny, always at the washtub 
and ironing table ! 


82 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


XII. 

AFTERWARD. 

The bannocks were cold, the tea had boiled 
and spoiled, the fried eggs were hard, but still 
it was a strangely happy breakfast, even though 
Granny and Lyddy were listening to a wild sad 
story. 

It was a tale of shipwreck and long captivity, 
of escape, and of waiting afterward for home- 
bound vessels. Oh, it was so like the stories 
Emily and Janet used to imagine, with Young 
John for the hero ! 

They sat long by the homely little table in 
the hut, for he had to tell Granny how it was 
that by noticing the English flatiron on the 
Aldens’ mantelpiece he had learned that Mrs. 
Sylvie Brennan and a little girl named Lyddy 
were living close by. Only for the Unicorn he 
would have gone early up to see his father, and 
away, and not even heard of them. 

“ I had seen you use that iron many times in 
our rooms, Sylvie, in the old housekeeping in 
Portland ! ” he said. “ It seemed as if there 
could not be another, in this place, so exactly 
the same. I feel as if we had had a narrow 


AFTERWARD. 


83 


escape, Sylvie — you and this little girl and her 
father!” 

“ Oh, Aunt Nancy would have guessed you 
out before you had gone far!” said Granny; 

“ not Mrs. Alden, but the pleasant-faced one 
with the beautiful dark eyes. She’s our best 
friend. She’s the only one that knows all about 
us. I had to tell somebody in case anything 
should happen to me and Lyddy be left.” 

Mrs. Alden had been saying, while clearing 
away breakfast, that she knew that poor man 
was out of his head, and likely as not had got 
up before light and wandered off Over the Hill 
and jumped off the wharf ; and Aunt Nancy 
was laughing about it in the strangest fashion ; 
and Emily was thinking that her auntie “ acted 
queer,” when Lyddy and Caper came bursting 
in at the end porch-door, ahead of Granny and 
the stranger. 

“ Oh, Emily ! Emily ! What do you think ! % 
Young John is my father! And he’s come! 
And Old John is my grandfather, and we’re 
going up there this afternoon ! ” 

Mrs. Alden and Emily looked at Lyddy as if 
she had suddenly gone out of her mind. But 
Aunt Nancy said quietly, “ I knew it last night, 
Lyddy ! And I am so glad for you and Granny ! 
Weeks ago I knew that Young John was your 
father ! And I knew him last night.” 

“ How did you know him ? ” cried Mrs. Alden, 
in astonishment. 


84 TEE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


“ By his questions about the Unicorn,” she 
said, “ and by the initials on his trunk ! ” 

And then she got up, and threw her arms 
around Granny’s neck, as the two came in, and 
cried with her for utter gladness ; and Lyddy’s 
father saw that “ the woman at Mrs. Alden’s ” 
had indeed “ beautiful dark eyes ; ” and he 
thought of the little salt-water-soaked Testa- 
ment he had managed to carry safe for her so 
many years, and now could give to her from her 
dead lover buried in far Ceylon. Granny had 
told him her story on the way over. He had 
never expected to see her and tell her all the 
story ! For it was he who had written the New 
Bedford letter. 

Emily, after one strange bewildered look at 
the mysterious hero of so many make-believe 
tales, left Lyddy there and almost literally “ ran 
herself to pieces,” to get to Janet Jackson and 
Lucetta. And whoever got the news, men or 
women, left whatever they were doing, and went 
with all possible speed to tell it to the next 
persons. 

For it was such news ! Young John had re- 
turned ! He was Lyddy Brennan’s father ! He 
was at Mr. Alden’s ! He wanted to meet all 
his old acquaintances ! 

The news sped Over the Hill, and up to The 
Meadows, of course, so that Old John trotted 
out his best horse, and came down before 
Young John and Lyddy got started for their 
visit to see him in his home. 


AFTERWARD. 


85 


And afterward ? 

Young John’s first thought was to make a 
home for himself and Lyddy and Granny. He 
felt that Over the Hill would be the best place, 
because there his little girl could have somewhat 
better “ chances ” for “ schooling,” including fine 
needlework, than were obtainable in X-Roads. 

With the Red Cloak money he bought a 
large old house there, taking part of it for a 
store, which, partly by the aid of old friends, he 
was able to fit out on quite a large scale. 

There he prospered ; and there Lyddy made 
the acquaintance of her cousins, the Holmses,” 
But it was Emily and Janet and Lucetta that 
Lyddy clung to and visited oftenest. 

The friendship between Lyddy and Aunt 
Nancy, which began among the bushes on the 
Mammy Doty afternoon, grew closer as time 
went on ; and Lyddy’s father kept up his ac- 
quaintance with the Alden family and often 
drove over to X-Roads to carry Lyddy, and to 
bring Lyddy home again. 

Finally there came to pass the happy thing 
X-Roads and Over the Hill had long prophesied 
and expected — the blessed thing Granny had 
hoped for and Lyddy wished for, and that 
Lyddy’s father could hardly believe would 
ever be possible — a mother to Lyddy — her 
dear Aunt Nancy ! 

And Phcebe Jackson and the other big 
girls must have been planning for this very 
event ! At a word from them, Janet’s set, and 


86 THE FLATIRON AND THE RED CLOAK. 


even Toosey and Polly and all the “ little ones,” 
began a Secret Surprise. Each was to make a 
square of patchwork of pieces of her own gowns, 
and the grown-up girls were to put them to- 
gether and quilt them into a bed-quilt. 

And with the children’s bed-quilt came over 
from X-Roads, on the day Mrs. Young John 
moved into her new home Over the Hill, braided 
mats and a drawn rug, pincushion, fire-screens, 
chair-cushions and a whole set of china; and 
Aunt Nancy said she felt as if she were setting 
up a Mammy Doty of her own. 

And on that day, because she was a married 
woman, she began to wear a cap — a dainty one 
with worked lace ruffles and delicate ribbons. 

You will like to know that Lyddy’s grand- 
father came down to the wedding and was 
highly pleased. But instead of a wedding 
present to the bride he gave his grandchild a 
handsome riding-horse for her own ! He took 
great comfort in Lyddy, and made frequent 
visits, but chose to keep his home near the 
hunting-grounds, and Lyddy and Granny and 
Mr. and Mrs. Young John always took their 
Thanksgiving Day dinner up at The Meadows. 

You will also like to know that the beautiful 
Red Cloak in due time was made into a warm 
and pretty garment for Lyddy; and also that 
the Unicom had a place of honor on the dining- 
room mantelpiece ; and that Granny — whom 
Mr. and Mrs. Young John always addressed as 
“ Sylvie,” though she was still “ Granny ” for 


AFTER WARD. 


87 


Lyddy — had a comfortable fireside rocking- 
chair, and that Caper — yes, surely Caper was 
in Mrs. Young John’s new home ! Of an even- 
ing he was always to be seen snugged close to 
his young mistress, and when his bed-time came 
he trotted off to his wadded box in the kitchen. 
His roller-cart ? Why, that was his box ! 


























